The Chronicles of Kyoto
by Lady Mirabelle
Summary: Challenge archive. Multiple pairings.
1. Saitou, Misao, Horses

Disclaimer: Standard disclaimers apply.

A/N: Well. Well, well, well. This is for the brilliant **Kay-san**, my fabulous beta. -blows kisses-

Uhm. Please ignore the fact that Saitou is married to Tokio for fanfiction purposes.

And even if you don't read this piece of fanfiction (ex. If the pairing bugs you or whatever), be sure to **scroll down to the bottom. I have a message for you all.**

* * *

_**Saitou/Misao: Horses**_

Saitou was not happy.

Well, he was never really _happy_, but today, goddamn it, he was _Not Happy_.

The fact that a decidedly _plastered_ Makimachi Misao was bouncing around in front of him wasn't helping all that much, either.

"_Saitou, Saitou, pants are tight-o,_" she chanted cheerfully, wind-milling her arms around and very nearly upsetting his hat.

"Stop that," he ordered with a scowl.

"_No! Saitou, Saitou, pants are tight-o, pants are Saitou, tight-o Saitou…_"

"Che. You're even more annoying when drunk, you know that?"

"Ehhhh? What was that, Tight-o? Speak up! I can't _hear_ you!"

Saitou sighed, reaching into his pocket to curl his fingers around a cigarette. When he found it, he gave an eerie smile of triumph and exhaled sharply. He lifted the cigar with two slender fingers, lit it deftly, and took several long pulls, trying to calm his mind.

"_Saitou_," Misao drawled, giggling and hiccupping. "I can't feel my fing'rs!"

"Go bite them then. Leave me alone."

Misao scowled. "Since when'd you become so… so _mean_, Tight-o? I mean, _mou_, 's not like you're Mount Hiei or nothin'."

"What the hell are you talking about, girl? Mount Hiei?"

"Well, yeah, _duh._"

Misao leveled him the best stare that she could offer in her drunken state, and said sloppily, "Mount Hiei and… and _lava_. Yeah, 's right, _lava_. _Lava, java, guava, sava, java, cava. Java lava guava java. Lava java cava guava. Guava-wielding lava._"

"You said _java_ five times," Saitou pointed out, raising an eyebrow. "And _lava_ five times also."

"_You shuddup,_" Misao slurred, her footing slipping by a couple notches. Saitou flinched.

"Hey, Tight-o, what's this animina- amina- animani- _thing_ called again?"

Saitou glanced briefly towards the girl, eyebrows shooting up further when he saw that she had sidled up to the nearest horse stall and pressed her nose onto a black horse's forehead. The horse didn't look too pleased about it, but Misao paid it no heed as she played with its ears clumsily.

"That… would be a horse."

"_Horse. Coarse, force, source, endor-_"

"Aungh. Shut _up_, woman," interrupted Saitou briefly. "You're giving me a headache."

"_Fine_. Sheesh, y' don't need to _yeller _at me or anything."

"God, where is that Seijuro? I'm going to kill him for getting you drunk."

Misao giggled. "Oh, you concun- concern- _worried, _tight-y boy?"

"Che. Not in the least. And don't call me that."

Despite what he said, though, it was with faint horror that Saitou watched Misao boost herself up onto the horse's back and sway from where she sat, gripping onto its mane with both hands.

"Giddy-up, horsey, giddy-up!"

"_Oh, goddamnit, weasel girl, don't do that-_"

Too late.

Misao dug her heels into the horse's sides, and it bolted forward, hooves waving threateningly in the air. It cleared the stall easily, landing with a clatter in front of Saitou. She laughed, patting the horse's neck gleefully.

"_OH GOD, WEASEL GIRL, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?_"

Misao blinked. "What 'choo talking about, Tight-o?"

"_THAT… YOU… CAPTAIN,_" Saitou spluttered, cigarette dropping from his mouth. "_That's the CAPTAIN'S HORSE, you idiot!_"

"Captain? What captain? I don't see no _captain,_" Misao slurred, grinning. "I see _you, _Tight-y Sait-y, but that's it."

"Get _down_, damn you, get _down!_"

"Make me!"

Saitou groaned, a nervous tic appearing in his left eye. "No, weasel girl, you don't understand. That's the horse of _General Yamamato._ He'll _kill me_ if anything happens to it."

"_Like I give a damn. Or a ram. Or a Sam._"

"_GET DOWN OR SUFFER MY WRATH, GIRL._"

"I'll get down… if you kiss me," Misao mused thoughtfully, a wicked smile spreading across her face.

"God. Is that all? Then _gladly_."

"What? _What? _I was just kid-"

She didn't get to finish that particular sentence.

Because Saitou had slammed his mouth against hers, cutting off any and all hope for conversation.

It certainly didn't look as though he didn't enjoy it.

In fact, one could say that Saitou looked rather pleased about it, really.

* * *

That is, until…

"_HAJIME SAITOU,_" a deep, dark voice rumbled.

Saitou wrenched his head back so abruptly that their lips made an embarrassing squelching sound, and he cringed.

"Yamamoto-san, I _swear to god_ it's not what it looks like!"

"_Really._ Because it looked to me as though you were _fraternizing with the opposite sex_ during your shift, and- _OH MY GOD, IS THAT BLACK BEAUTY, HAJIME?_"

Saitou shuddered and shrank away from his quickly-swelling captain, muttering, "Yes sir, Yamamoto-san."

"_YOU! GIRL! GET THE HELL AWAY FROM BLACK BEAUTY!_"

Misao slipped off wordlessly, pressing a hand to her forehead and paling considerably.

_Oh god,_ Saitou prayed. _No, no, anything but that, please, no, no._

And then she promptly ralphed all over the esteemed captain's shoes, earning a rather infuriated scream that rumbled throughout the stalls.

"_HAJIME!_"

* * *

Later, one could see a very disgruntled Saitou heading towards the Aoiya with an exhausted Misao slung over his shoulder.

"Y'know, Tight-o, today was fun."

"Shut up."

Misao laughed delightedly, looping an arm around his head.

"Thanks, I guess."

"Che. Because of you, I might lose my job."

"Mm. Okay."

"_Mm, okay?_ Are _you_ going to provide me with an income, weasel?"

"Wanna be a waiter?"

"…No."

"Well, I'm sure he won't be _too _hard on you, y' know? You're a good guy, Tight-o."

Saitou smirked. Perhaps today wasn't as bad a day as he had thought.

"_Saitou, Saitou, pants are tight-o, pants are Saitou, tight-o Saitou!_"

Yeah. And maybe Shishio was a Cambodian belly dancer.

* * *

A/N: Hello, all, Pendari here.

I'm sure by now, you guys (well, the ones who read my writing, heh.) are tired of reading the cheap little drabbles I've been putting up, due to my lazy-ass-ness, and I _apologize_. Really.

So, to all of you, I offer a challenge.

If you provide me with a coupling and a prompt from Rurouni Kenshin, I will write it for you. No matter how ridiculous it is.

For example: _Aoshi and Misao, Peanut Butter._

If someone wrote that (-points upward-) in a review, I would, in some way, write a fanfiction starring Aoshi, Misao, and a jar of peanut butter. Dedicated to the person, of course. I promise, I'll write anything from Kenshin x Kaoru to Megumi x Shishio. –SNERK-

It's a gift offering, if you will.

Uhm. If you request a story, I suggest you put this onto Story Alert, so you'll know if it's posted or not. I'm going to write these in the order I get them, so I suggest you hurry up. The challenge holds valid until the end of November, so quickly, quickly, my dears!

Thanks for reading, and request away!


	2. Aoshi, Kaoru, Twelve

Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin belongs to Nobuhiro Watsuki.

A/N: For **White Rabbit Tale**, who requested an Aoshi/Kaoru, with prompt "twelve" as the incentive. Oh, _guh_, AM gods, don't scowl down upon me. :D

God. Let me tell you right now, folks, when you've written nothing but Aoshi/Misao for about a year (save for one Saitou/Misao, and that was just recently, too), it's an _adventure_ trying to write another pairing. I love the requests. I love the strange pairings. I love the readers. –is incoherent-

Enjoy!

* * *

_**Aoshi/Kaoru: Twelve**_

Twelve.

Shinomori Aoshi thought very much that twelve was his lucky number.

Twelve years was an awfully long time.

It had taken twelve years for Kamiya Kaoru and himself to have a decent conversation.

Twelve years of stuttered hellos, clumsy bows, and awkward exchanges of festivities had paid off in the end, at last triggering an unexpected, but pleasant, talk.

* * *

"Kamiya-san."

"Eh? Ah, it's only you, Shinomori-san."

Aoshi's eyes had twinkled, if not only for a fleeting second.

"Only?"

"Agh. Sorry, didn't mean that _quite_ the way it sounded."

"It's fine."

"What brings you down here anyway, Shinomori-san? Have you finished meditating?"

"My tea," he had deadpanned. Kaoru paled.

"Oh god, I'm sorry, Shinomori-san, I _completely_ forgot!"

"Quite all right, I'll get it myself. Might as well, it would be troubling you."

"Oh, no, it's really no trouble at all! Let me bustle up a cup for you!"

"…All right."

* * *

Twelve weeks after the initial banter, their relationship had been brought up a notch.

Kaoru had left the Kamiya dojo to come move into the Aoiya, opting to leave the dojo to Yahiko. Misao had been delighted.

* * *

"Aoshi-san…"

"Yes?"

"I don't like living two days' journey away from you."

"Is that so."

"What, you don't care?"

"I didn't say that."

"So…"

"So?"

"_So…_ you're going to move in with me! Okay?"

A rather loud spitting of tea.

"_I beg your pardon?_"

"You heard me. Don't you think it would be fun?"

"Living. With you."

"Mm-hmm!"

"At your dojo."

"Yep."

"With Battousai, Sagara, and Myojin."

"You got it."

"Kaoru-san?"

"Mm?"

"There is nothing in the world that would make me want to live with those three."

"Not even me?"

Silence.

"_Not even me?_"

"… Do I have to answer honestly?"

"_Excuse me?_"

"Only joking."

"That's nothing to joke about, _darling dearest._"

"Fine. I'm sorry."

"And…?"

"I apologize, Kaoru-san, but I absolutely _refuse_ to live with those monstrosities."

"Monstrosities? I think not!"

"One wears pink, one spends his free time ogling at the ladies at the Akabeko, and one's going through the throes of puberty."

"…I see your point."

"So you will come live at the Aoiya?"

"_Fine._"

* * *

There had been several fights along the way, the twelfth of which had been particularly memorable.

And not just because it had been centered on the topic of lawn gnomes.

* * *

"_Aoshi, don't be an idiot!_"

"What are you _talking_ about, Kaoru?"

"_Out of the question_."

"And _why_?"

"_We are NOT getting that decorative kodachi ornament for OUR backyard!_"

"_WHY NOT? It's perfectly nice!_"

"Why not that _waterfall? _Or the _fairies?_"

"_KODACHI._"

"_FAIRIES._"

"That's an _idiotic idea!_"

"_You did NOT just call my idea STUPID."_

"_You're impossible!_"

"_ME?_"

"_JUST… FINE. WE'LL GET THE FAIRIES. HAPPY?_"

They hadn't spoken to each other for weeks.

* * *

On June twelfth, Shinomori Kaoru walked out of the chapel with an arm looped around her husband's.

Aoshi looked down at Kaoru's beaming face and cracked a small smile of his own.

_Yes,_ he mused. _Twelve is indeed my lucky number._

* * *

A/N: Oh lordy, **White Rabbit Tale**, I hope this was to your liking. Requests are still open, so review, and send them in:D 


End file.
